


Calm After The Storm

by EmetoOmo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emetophilia, M/M, Sickfic, Vomiting, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmetoOmo/pseuds/EmetoOmo
Summary: Sometimes, picking a fight is worth the makeup sex before bed. Other times…picking a fight before bed is just the best way to end up with a cold bed. The latter was the case this night when Gabe’s usual prodding and poking at all of Jack’s usual spots just set the over stressed Strike-Commander off to the point of exploding. Can they survive a night apart, or will it drive Jack’s already stress-sensitive stomach over the edge?





	Calm After The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous asked: Jack and Gabe get into an argument before bed and end up sleeping separately. In the morning they're sitting across from each other for breakfast in the hall, and Gabe is eating something with a cup of coffee on the table. Jack asks him to move, pretending its out out of anger, buts it’s really because he isn’t feeling well and the coffee’s making him nauseous, but Gabe refuses, being more obnoxious and moving to sit right next to him, causing Jack to feel so sick that he throws up right there.

Gabe grumbled into the darkness, turning over yet again and pulling the blankets up. The sheets were too cold, the bed too empty. There was no body behind him to curl tighter against him until he couldn’t toss and turn anymore, no warm breath on his neck, no gentle kisses on his skin.

What Gabriel  _did_  have was an aching hand and a fist-shaped hole in the wall.

The argument was stupid. It wasn’t unusual for Gabe to poke at Jack for being too stern, too stiff, too serious. He’d call him a nerd, tease him about his pocket protector, whatever came to mind to get under Morrison’s skin enough to get him heated. When Jack was mad, he’s kisses came with a little more fervor, his touches a little rougher, and  _gods_  the wanton way he practically  _prayed_  for Gabriel to go harder, faster…to never stop… _not ever…_ After they were both far more relaxed and better off for it, and there was nothing he loved more.

Well, maybe except for having Jack being the big spoon to Gabriel’s spiteful little spork.  

“Fucking asshole…” He practically growled into the room, picking up Jack’s pillow and tossing it at the hole in the wall. It hit with a dull floof, sliding down to slump over on the floor, deflating along with Gabriel’s anger.  _I shouldn’t have thrown that punch._

He hadn’t hit him. Hell, he hadn’t even wanted to hit him. Well, no, that’s wrong. He had wanted to. He couldn’t even remember why now, but he wanted to knock that fucking attitude out of him, and just realized the wall was the better idea of the two.

The surprise in both their eyes had shown…but it was the sheen of moisture in the Strike Commander’s was like a strike to the heart of Reyes, who had tried to apologize. But that was it, Jack was gone, disappeared out the door and down the hall. Gabe didn’t give chase. Pride kept him still, and here they were….Gabe with a cold, empty bed, and Jack…

…he didn’t know where the fuck Jack was.

Morning came too early, and Jack was already in the officer common’s reading through papers with a pencil behind his ear. His hair was mussed, dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t even bothered shaving this morning, and a light dusting of scruff had darkened his pale cheeks.

Gabriel nearly froze in place when he came in the door, catching sight of his lover. When Jack didn’t turn around to acknowledge him, he just set his jaw, and came in to grab some coffee and heat up a breakfast bowl from the freezer.

Jack didn’t look up at all while he was in there. If anything, he seemed stiffer the longer Gabe was there, which only led to him beginning to slam things around. Drawers, bowls, the door to the microwave which ended up throwing the fuse to it. When he came to sit down a seat away from Jack, he set his coffee down hard enough that it spilled some. Jack’s jaw tightened, but his silence only made Gabe eat It  _spitefully._  He chewed with his mouth open, smacking his lips. He clanked his fork against the bowl every time he went back for more.

“Can you go somewhere else with that?” Jack grit out finally, still not looking up at him. Gabriel could see his jaw muscles dancing beneath his skin as he ground his teeth.

He grabbed his bowl and his cup of coffee, picked them up…and closed the distance between them, beginning to eat like that right next to Jack’s face. “What’sa matter, Jack? Don’t like my face any more?”

Jack swallowed a little thickly, paling before he pitched forward and vomited what seemed to be mostly bile across the table and all over the report he’d been reading. Reyes jumped up just in time for Jack to loudly belch up another thicker spray of vomit across the eating area. It spread out, dripping from the other side while Jack clutched his stomach.

There wasn’t even a second of thought before Gabe was returning with a waste basket, getting Jack coaxed enough to turn so that he could vomit into it. He retched, and the force of it caused the vomit to splash loudly into the metallic trash bin. It hurt, burning acidic straight up his throat, and he spat miserably into the basket. “Let’s get you to Angela,” Gabriel said, sounding worried.

Jack shook his head, just slightly, belching up a smaller wave and spitting again. “Been…doing this all night…”

Gabe made a soft noise, the closest he ever came to chiding himself as he realized…it was his  _nerves_  “Shit, Morrison…”

He gagged again, weakly that time, and tried to focus on catching his breath. “It’s fine.”

Silence stretched between them, both of them knowing that the words ‘I’m sorry’ weren’t even in Reyes’s vocabulary. But when he reached forward, brushing a sweaty strand of sandy blond back from Jack’s forehead, and leaned to kiss his temple, the tension instantly left the stressed man’s shoulders. “You kissed me.”

“I did.” Came the gruff reply. Was…Gabe pink in the cheeks?

“Out where everyone can see.” Jack continued.

“You don’t have to write a fuckin’ book about it, Jack, goddamn…” he scowled.

Jack smiled some, moving to lean a little against Gabe as he closed his eyes. It would never be  _I’m sorry_  but he was okay with that. Gabe was Gabe, and sometimes the shine from Gabe after the storm was just as good.


End file.
